Famiglia di Peccatori
by Ephemeral Muse
Summary: Where they were born, how they were raised...none of that was of any importance. In their world of guns and money, of bloody silences and drugs, all that mattered was what they do, and who they were. They were hired as killers...as sinners. Varia-centic.
1. Prologue::Introduzione

A/N: Heya Everyone, this is Ephemeral Muse, or just Saki, here. First upload on FF EVAR! Be proud of me. Be very proud. I wrote a lot of shit before, but I never had the patience to click the "New Story" button. :D;; The only reason why I'm actually posting this is because my un-adorable kouhai was being a ******* and decided to bug me about it. So, here ya goes-a series of ficlets featuring none other than the kickass Varia.

Disclaimer: "Katekyo Hitman Reborn!"'s characters, plot, and all other affiliates of the manga and anime belong to Amino Akira, meaning it does not belong to me whatsoever. I own solely this piece of literature, and thus I would also appreciate it if fellow authors and writers do not steal any of my work. Thank you, and enjoy "Famiglia di Peccatori".

* * *

Prologue

Famiglia di Peccatori::Introduzione

_Family of Sinners::Introduction_

They were loners. Not linked together by some sort of shallow unionism, but purely because they had nowhere else. That was their excuse at least: that they wouldn't bat an eyelash if everyone died, that the only reason why they were there-- that they were together- was for only convenience's sake.

They were not a family. No, families and their artificial love and compassion were something that was far from describing them. After all, it wasn't as if they actually cared for one another—far from it. As mentioned before, they were joined simply because they had nothing better to do, nowhere better to be. Families were supposed to be full of cheerfulness and kindness, weren't they? They were not cheerful, and they spat upon kindness, viewing it as a form of weakness.

They were outcasts. Shunned not only from the superficial society, but also from their own world: the world of gunshots and money, of bloody silences and drugs. The main branch, the forged face that oozed genuine empathy to those around them, avoided them. Not that they were bothered by this aversion—rather, they were comforted by this fact. They'd be disturbed if the main branch, with all of their saints and heroes, decided to embrace them.

They were destroyers. Not just of homes and families, but of other, more abstract effects. Relationships, loves, purity, and hope…they destroyed all of these, not for some glorious cause, but simply because they could. The innocence of a child's mind, the joy of first loves, and the hope of the young woman who's still waiting at home for her husband to come back from a "job" in Italy…they extinguished all of these facets.

They were mavericks. Born into the world with the choice of either walking the road of normalcy and being accepted by their peers, they chose the path less taken. Instead of existing alongside the trivial public, they chose to be who they were at the price of being ostracized by everyone else.

But that was okay. Even if the rest of the world cowered and glared at them in both fear and disgust, they didn't care. After all…even though they really couldn't, and wouldn't, admit it, they still had each other.

They were sinners. But they were a family.

A family of sinners was a family nonetheless.

* * *

So there ya goes. I'm still conflicted as to whether I should continue this story into what I originally planned as a eight-piece featurette, or keep it as a drabble. And please, for the love of yaoi and cookies, click the "Review" button.


	2. Lust::di Labbra Scarlatto e Pelle Avorio

A/N:Hello everyone, Saki here again. :3 I'm really really proud and really really disgusted with this chapter: Proud at the fact that I managed to finish this is one day (typing four hours straight, WHOOHOO!), but disgusted at my stupidity. You see, halfway thought writing this chapter, I realized that Katekyo Hitman Reborn was, in fact, set in modern times. Therefore, aristocrats, Victorian-style dresses, and everything else would not exist.

AUGH.

However, I HAVE AN EXCUSE FOR THIS! You see, EVEN THOUGH KHR IS SET IN MODERN TIMES, THERE ARE PRINCES! AND KINGS! AND QUEENS! And where there are kings, there are ARISTOCRATS! And where there are aristocrats, there are FANCY BALLS! And where there are fancy balls, there are FANCY DRESSES! And where there are -shot-

Ahem. Yea. :D So I sincerely apologize if this chapter is too AU or OOC for your tastes. Please enjoy "Lust" either way.

Disclaimer: "Katekyo Hitman Reborn!"'s characters, plot, and all other affiliates of the manga and anime belong to Amino Akira, meaning it does not belong to me whatsoever. I own solely this piece of literature, and thus I would also appreciate it if fellow authors and writers do not steal any of my work. Thank you, and enjoy "Famiglia di Peccatori".

* * *

Chapter One: Lust

di Labbra Scarlatto e Pelle Avorio

_Of Scarlet Lips and Ivory Skin_

In the conservative society of the aristocratic European nations, many effects were looked down upon. Being as that may, those who were slightly...unorthodox in their interests and romances were looked down upon, and eventually exiled from their superficial, "perfect" world.

He knew this. And so, he hid his dark passion.

And hid it well he did, for not even the most suspicious conservative suspected that charming gentleman to be anything but what he seemed. And so, he attended all the balls and social events with that same sickly sweet smile of his.

Who would've known?

Who would have known that this charming, handsome foreigner was, in fact, hiding such a dark secret behind his warm facade? But in the end, it was bound to show...His ugly face underneath that kind mask was bound to come out sooner or later.

He knew. He knew that his "mild interest" in that martial art from Thailand would come to play a main role in his life soon.

It was at the Midsummer's Ball when he finally shed his skin and was reborn yet again. There was once a maiden no older than 16, with a sweet smile and dimples in her cheeks...She was indeed the apple of every man's eye. Her skin was of a milky pearl sheen, with bright baby blue sapphires for eyes. In high contrast, her crimson locks cascaded, untamed, down her back. All the women admired her, and all the men tried to catch her attention for but a few seconds.

He knew. He knew that if there was only one person who would manage to break his mask, it would be her.

They ended up together, of course. How predictable: the sweet, beautiful damsel was swooped off her feet by the foreign aristocrat. Soon, there was gossip spreading around the city of marriage plans, of engagements and weddings. And so, knowing of the rumors and the giggles, he boldly asked the young girl to the dance. She accepted of course, flushing in delight and innocence.

If only she knew, she would have cherished that innocence of her so much more.

He knocked on her door at 7o'clock sharp, dressed smartly in a simple black coat with navy accents. In contrast, the maiden answered the door in a clean, elaborate white gown. Unlike the usual girls who attended the balls in pale pinks and floral shades, this woman opted for a dress that fit his choice of colors perfectly well. And of course, like all those in that society, her skin was covered in powder in hopes to turn her already pale skin even whiter. Looking her over, he smiled.

He knew, and loved, the "ideal beauty"-the bold, scarlet lips paired with the whitest skin possible.

They danced around and around, attracting whispers of both admiration and envy, for who wouldn't be jealous of this couple? Other couples fidgeted in the shadowy corners, reluctant to be put on the same stage as those two. She blushed,and smiled with genuine happiness at the man who had changed her life. And would change it once more, in a but a few more moments...

He knew. He knew that once he went through with this plan, there was no turning back.

* * *

At the stroke of midnight, the couple, who had long since paused in their waltzing, was taking a breath of fresh air at the gentleman's suggestion. Once they were outside, he pulled her into a tight embrace, and suppressed her gasp of surprise with a quick, chaste kiss. She was flustered, of course, for these types of actions were looked upon with disdain. Before she had a chance to scold him, however, he leaned down once more and slipped a small, metal object in her hands.

His warm breath sent shivers down her spine as he whispered, "Meet me in the room on the 3rd floor in half an hour. The key is yours."

She froze, in surprise and apprehension. She grabbed him as he was about to leave, searching his eyes for a hint of what was to come. His eyes gleamed with hints of lust and passion, of much suppressed urges...

He knew. He knew that she would obey, that the lamb would wordlessly follow the wolf to his cavern.

She trembled slightly in anticipation as she tip-toed towards the dark, mahogany door. She knew, from chatting with the maids, that out of all the private rooms at this mansion, this was the only one that had walls thick enough to be soundproof. Armed with this knowledge, she quickly turned around and swept the floor with her eyes one last time in case there were followers, and quietly entered the room.

He was waiting for her, sitting on the edge of the bed, back facing the door. From the dim light offered by the full moon, she could see that he was slightly hunched over, appearing to be holding something in his hands. Being the naive person that she was, she dismissed it as him twiddling his thumbs, and walked silently over towards the lone piece of furniture in the room.

He embraced her while gently placing her onto the bed. He caressed her face, her arms, her whole body...touch after touch, butterfly kisses sending flames of excitement and arousal through her veins.

And then, searing pain.

Her bright eyes, which were fluttered shut with pleasure but a second before, snapped open at the sudden burst of raw agony. Ribbons of scarlet reached out for salvation from her bosom, and still more crimson cascaded from the large gash, pooling onto the crisp, clean sheets. She tried to cry out, to scream for help, but was silenced yet again by a deep, passionate kiss by her so-called lover. Even if she was able to cry out, there was no point-- the walls were soundproof, after all.

Her eyes were dimming, but she still stared at him in pain, in hurt at this betrayal. She took a shuddering last breath, and choked out her last words.

"W-why...Why, _mio amore_?"

He simply smiled, a different smile from his normally sweet one. He smiled his true smile, one of sadistic pleasure and twisted love.

"Why, simply because no amount of powder and makeup would match the enticing pallor of the dead,of course. And besides...the magnificent poppy suits your hair like nothing else."

He sat there for what seemed like hours, gazing lovingly at the corpse of the most beautiful women in the city...in the world, perhaps. The blood was starting to dry, dulling into a rusty hue. Her eyes, which were still eerily open, stared at him accusingly. Not that he was bothered, of course. He was hoping that she wouldn't close her eyes at the time of her death...the blue color of her irises only further complemented the white of her skin and the red of her blood.

He knew. He knew that his "life" was over...that this was most likely the end.

This scene was too much to dispose of in the few hours, minutes, that he still had. What could he possibly do? There were no trap doors in this room, he made sure of that. It was only a matter of time before the others wondered where the couple had gone, and soon, they would open the door to be faced with what he considered to be the most morbidly enticing picture. They would immediately capture him, sentence him, kill him...He sighed with slight remorse-there were no more fresh, tantalizing corpses for him, no more innocent maidens and handsome men for him to caress and kill...

But this one was worth it.

_

* * *

_

_Creak...creak..._

He couldn't help but raise his eyebrows when he heard the floorboards that paved the way to this secluded room groan with the pressure of a man's boots. Even though he knew that he was going to get caught, he didn't think they would notice that quickly...He sighed with resignation. At least he was able to enjoy his prey for enough time before departing. He twisted towards the corpse, and kissed its cold lips once more before turning towards the door to meet his fate.

"Voooiiiii...so this is the new recruit? Seems like a fucking wuss to me."

He paused for a second in surprise. That language and the voice didn't seem to belong to anyone present at the party. Just what was going on? He tensed, and reached for the bloodstained knife just in case.

"Ushishishishi...Age:19. Birthday: April 4th. Specialty: Muai Thai, and other forms of hand-to-hand combat. Hobbies: Raping and stabbing both young women and men between the ages of 14- 24. What an interesting peasant, ushishishishi...."

Now he was thoroughly confused. Standing before him were two clearly dangerous people. The man who first spoke was one with shoulder-length silver hair and clearly feminine features. In fact, he would have seemed like a damsel-in-distress, if it wasn't for the sword attached to his arm. The other was short, reaching only up to his shoulders at the most. He clearly wasn't normal, if his tiara and his sadistic grin was any indication.

"...Who are you? What do you want from me?"

Mr. Swordsman and Mr. Tiara glanced at him for a moment before simultaneously grinning at him.

"Voooiiii, ever heard of the Varia, fucking wuss? Boss had a interest in a certain necrophiliac and decided to send us to recruit him. If you accept, you live. If you decline, we leave you for the shit-eating brats downstairs."

"If I join, can I kill and keep more corpses?"

"Ushishishi, I like you, peasant. Yes, you can keep as many fresh corpses as you want, but not this one. This one's old, ushishishishi."

The aristocrat paused for only a second before replying. After all, this was possibly the best thing that could have happened in this situation. Not only would he escape from prison and eventual execution, but he would be able to freely embrace all the alluring cadavers he desired.

"I'll do it. I'll join the Varia."

"Vooiiii, Good choice. Now hurry up and get your crap together, I wanna hurry up and leave this shithole."

He obliged, swiftly cleaning his knife with a clean patch from the bedsheets, and stole one last look at the girl who gave him such pleasure..and such opportunity. His eyes caught sight of her pendant, a small crystal the shape of the sun. Quickly snatching it from her neck, he turned away and followed the men out.

"Ushishishi...that's a pretty girl over there. She your girlfriend or something?"

He paused for just a second, before smiling a real smile and replying,

"No. Just a random girl who I thought was worth my time."

The swordsman, who was obviously listening to their little exchange, snorted.

"Voiiii, speaking of which, nobody decided to tell us what you go by. So what's your fucking name, newbie?"

He froze again for a moment or two before smirking yet again.

"Lussuria."

* * *

He knew that never again would he be allowed to step back into that artificial society once he left the mansion, the place of fancy dresses and plastic smiles.

He knew that his life now belonged to someone other than himself, that it belonged to his "Boss" now.

He knew all of this when he shed his old skin and metamorphosed into who he is today.

And he knew that it was all worth it.

_Because her kiss was the perfect blend of pleasure and pain, of sugarplums and blood._

* * *

So there you go, Chapter one for you. Now that I think about it, I actually like it despite the major wrong-time type thing. I STILL HAVE AN EXCUSE FOR IT. REMEMBER. EVEN THOUGH KHR IS SET IN MODERN TIMES, THERE ARE PRINCES! AND KINGS! AND QUEENS! And where there are kings, there are ARISTOCRATS! And where there are aristocrats, there are FANCY BALLS! And where there are fancy balls, there are FANCY DRESSES! And where there are -shot-

I know that you'll say that Lulu is gay, that he's not interested in girls, but...I don't know. While everyone portrays him as a happy homosexual, I get more of a dark, bisexual necrophiliac feel from him. I mean SERIOUSLY. HE'S A NECROPHILIAC PEOPLE. HE HAS A FETISH. FOR DEAD PEOPLE. HE'S NOT A HAPPY CLAM. D:

And besides, most happy psychopaths have dark pasts and undergo some major personality changes in between the "present" and the "deep dark past". So I always pictured him as a conservative hiding his true fetishes before the Varia recruited him.

Hope you enjoyed, and PLEASE. CLICK. THE REVIEW BUTTON. I'LL GIVE YOU A TIARA. :D


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